


Words I Couldn't Say

by justcallmeasmodeus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester - Freeform, F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 01:50:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13671771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justcallmeasmodeus/pseuds/justcallmeasmodeus
Summary: Snippets of your life with Dean





	Words I Couldn't Say

_4/19/19_

Dean leaned up against you, his long legs stretched out in front him, a half empty glass of whiskey between his knees. The cool spring air tousled the loose ends of his flannel shirt as you watched the sun set. This was how you had spent every Friday night of the last five years.  
“I should have said it sooner. I know you know, but hearing it is different.” Dean sighed and drained his glass. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I love you. Always and forever.”  
Your reply was interrupted by Dean’s cell phone, signaling the end of your quiet Friday night. 

_6/28/19_

“She looks just like you, you know.” Dean said, watching your six month old daughter as she tried to crawl across the grass. “Sam says she has my opinions though, so we’re going to have to keep an eye on her.” This time the Jack had been replaced by a Coke, and Dean chuckled to himself as he pressed the bottle to his lips. “Had anyone told me that I would be right here a year ago, I would have punched them in the face. Look at us now.”  
You sat there in silence, happy to just enjoy each other’s company as the katydids and crickets began to sing the night in. Time lost all meaning, but all too soon the baby started getting fussy. Dean sighed and checked his watch.  
“Alright little one. I get it, you’re tired. Time to go home.”

_1/24/2020_

“One year, can you believe it? She’s walking now, probably giving Sam a heart attack as we speak.”  
Dean laughed, but you noticed he was playing with his wedding ring, which was something he only did when he was stressed. The whiskey was back again tonight, and when he picked up the glass his hands were shaking. You reached out a hand to comfort him, and he turned to look at you. His face was somber, his eyes dark with an emotion you couldn’t place.  
“I have no idea what I’m doing Y/N/N. It’s been a year since she was born and I still feel like I’m going to mess something up. Hell, I probably already have.” A nervous laugh bubbled up from his chest. “Why don’t these things come with user manuals. Life would be so much easier.”

_10/28/2022_

“Look Momma! I’m a princess! Uncle Sam is my horsey.”  
Mary’s high pitched squeal rang out across the park, bringing smiles to a few faces as Sam lifted her onto his shoulders and started prancing around making horse noises. Dean’s deep laugh joined hers, and they became a joyous chorus. Your heart swelled as you watched them, finally a happy little family. Your happy little family.

_5/7/2027_

“Go ahead, read her what you wrote.” Dean beamed proudly as he stood behind your daughter, a handmade Mother’s Day card in her hands.  
Mary took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, swallowed her nerves, and began reading the card. She really was her father’s daughter.  
“What makes my Momma the best: she is strong, she is pretty, and she is the best listener.”  
You smiled as you watched Dean wipe a tear out of the corner of his eye; he was turning into a real sap.

_7/6/2029_

“Can you believe how big she’s gotten?” Dean asked as he watched Mary run through the grass in the twilight glow. She was chasing fireflies with Sam, not a care in the world.  
She was ten now, and she was already a handful. She was the cause of Dean’s slowly graying hair, and the few added stress lines on his forehead. For every gray hair though, she added twice as much joy. The corners of Dean’s eyes now sported laugh lines, as did the corners of his mouth. It was a look you had never imagined you’d see on him, but now that you could it was perfect. His shoulders no longer hung with the weight of the world, and he had no new bruises, no angry red cuts, and no fresh pink scars.  
“Daddy! Is it dark enough for the sparklers yet?”  
“Oh, I don’t know…” Dean looked at the setting sun, pausing to take in its beauty while Mary squirmed with impatience.  
“Dad!” Dean’s lips twitched as he tried to hold back a grin.  
“Yeah, come on Dad!” Sam joined in, breaking Dean’s resolve as his deep laugh rumbled out of his chest.  
“Okay, okay, let’s go.”  
You watched them chase each other, sparkles in hand, laughter carried away on the wind, bodies silhouetted against the setting sun, inexplicably, undeniably happy. 

_4/21/2034_

Dean’s jaw twitched and you knew he was clenching his teeth. His lips were pressed together in a thin line, and he couldn’t stop pacing. You watched as he walked back and forth, twisting his wedding ring and letting out the occasional sigh. He checked his watch for the tenth time in the last fifteen minutes before looking at you. He let out another sigh, his shoulders dropping in defeat as he came to sit down and lean his back against you. He pressed the bottle of whiskey to his lips, having forgotten glasses.  
“I know we raised her right, and I know he’s a good kid, but can you blame me for being a nervous wreck? It’s her first real date. I keep thinking she’ll be okay, but then I remember what I was thinking about when I was 15 and I get worried all over again.” Dean groaned and laid his head back, his eyes closed.  
His phone rang, and he scrambled to pull it out of his pocket and answer it.  
“Mary? Is everything okay?”  
“Yeah Dad, everything is perfect! I just wanted to call and let you know what we came home early in case you still wanted to watch a movie tonight. Love you!” The call ended, and Dean leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and his forehead against his palms.  
“Fuck. She sounded happy. I swear to God if she says she’s in love I’m going to need another liver.”

_5/30/2036_

“Can you believe prom is tomorrow? I can’t believe prom is tomorrow.” Mary gushed, pulling on Dean’s arm as she jumped up and down.  
“I can’t believe I bought you a four hundred dollar dress.” Dean groaned, causing Mary to wrap him in a hug and kiss his cheek.  
“Because you’re the best Daddy a girl could ask for!”  
A car honked in the distance, and Mary’s face lit up.  
“Those are the girls, can I have some money? We’re going to get our nails done for tomorrow, and then maybe go get some food.” Dean let out a mock sigh, groaning as he pulled out his wallet and fished out a hundred dollar bill.  
“You know the rules.”  
“Don’t spend it all, tip 20%, bring you the receipts, home by 11.” Mary called over her shoulder as she ran towards the car.  
“10:30 Princess!” Dean yelled as she got in the car, and she waved away his response. “I swear she’s going to be the death of me.” He mumbled as he sank to the ground beside you. “I don’t know what I’m going to do this fall. She leaves for Stanford in August.” Dean chuckled to himself as he opened his beer. “Funny how it’s all coming full circle. I know that we always said that we’d raise her, and then when she was off at college we’d start hunting again but… The world hasn’t ended in 17 years, and I’m tired. Sam and I have the bar, and Sam’s got kids now. I’ve been thinking about doing what Bobby did. It makes sense now. Stay out of the field, stay safe in the bunker.” A soft breeze blew, and Dean closed his eyes as it ruffled his hair. “Yeah, that sounds nice. Field calls, give wayward hunters a place to stay and catch their breath.” A smirk crossed his face and he shook his head and tipped his beer back. “Who would have ever thought; Dean Winchester, with an office job.”

_6/26/2048_

Dean stood before you, cooing at the baby in his arms. Mary and her husband stood next to him, his arm wrapped around her waist.  
“Sorry it’s been so long. Time got away from us.” Mary smiled.  
“You’re here now, that’s all that matters. And you brought our grandson, so that’s all that matters.” Dean’s eyes never left the baby, and you marveled at how those green eyes now spanned three generations.  
“We also got you this t-shirt.”  
Dean laughed as he read it: Sexiest Grandpa Alive.  
“You know it’s true.”

When Dean Winchester passed away, it wasn’t at the edge of a blade or the end of a barrel of a gun. He was 90, with a good life behind him, and he went in his sleep. He stood next to you, watching Mary as she knelt before your graves.  
“Dean?” You whispered.  
“Y/N?” He turned around, his tired eyes wide with shock.  
You ran to him, wrapping your arms around him. The years melted away under your touch, until he was as young as the day you left him.  
“Every Friday. You kept your promise.” Tears rolled down your cheeks as he crushed you to his chest. He held the sides of your face and backed away, taking you in before he kissed you, slow and long, and deep.  
“I keep all my promises.”  
“There are so many things that I wanted to say-”  
“It’s okay. I’m here now.”

You both looked on as Mary sat a bottle of Jack between your gravestones, a sad smile playing on her face.

_Y/N Winchester: Y/B/D - 1/24/2019  
Dean Winchester: 1/24/1979 - 7/22/2064_

__

_All I can hear in the silence that remains_  
_Are the words I couldn’t say  
Rascal Flatts_


End file.
